Sherlock Zim
by Blonde Writing
Summary: A parody of Sherlock Holmes. Zim has been solving cases for years, and, as he would shamelessly agree, he's pretty darn good at it. But has he finally met his match? He's not one to believe in the Supernatural World, but is magic as real as science? R
1. Chapter 1: Once upon a time on Earth

A/N: READ THE A/N FOR ONCE! This is my parody of Sherlock Holmes. It's Sherlock Zim! Well, he's just called Zim in the actual story, but whatever. There's a few important things you must know:

1. This is not completely like the movie. I am writing everything while watching the movie, so any differences or lines being skipped are on purpose, not a mistake

2. Tallest doesn't mean ruler in this story. It's the equivalent of 'Sir' for Irkens, just, since Irkens do a lot of judging on height, it's to do with how tall you are. Plus, there may be many Tallests out there, but it doesn't mean they literally are the Tallest, it's just... they're tall...

3. The storyline is the same

4. If you haven't watched Sherlock Holmes (the 2009 film) go watch it and come back. Major spoilers in this story

5. I've made Zim and Dib extra-tall in this one, to make life easy for myself. Dib is full grown and about a foot smaller then the Tallest (I personally have a theory that humans are about a foot shorter then Red and Purple) and Zim is about an inch shorter then Dib. How does this make my life easy? Well, one of the Tallest plays a crucial part in this story, and I guess I just don't like describing how Zim and Dib climb on top of random stuff to come face-to-face with the Tallest, so yeah...

6. Humans and Irkens are not only allies, but at peace... I sound like Oogway from Kung Fu Panda... hmmmm... bad sign...

7. The only proper couples are ZATR (Zim and Tak) and Dib x OC (I was thinking about using Tenn, but I guess I am a bit OC prone. The OC plays as Mary, btw)

8. I SPENT 3 DARNED HOURS ON THE FIRST 1,831 WORDS! WHAT'S THAT ALL ABOUT?! THAT'S ONLY 5 MINS 27 SECS IN THE MOVIE! THE MOVIE IS 2 HOURS LONG! THERE GOES MY HOLIDAY! ARGH!

9. No flames... I shall ignore them... cuz your wasting your own time writing the pointless things, so yeah

10. SHERLOCK HOLMES ROCKS!

11. SO DOES ZIM!

Ok... *clears throat* here's the story

* * *

The gloomy street stayed silent. Once a place for old and lost land-transportation, the tarmac was no longer used but kept where it was simply because this was an aged area, the buildings hundreds of years old, still standing and deserted. Well, it wasn't really deserted. Not tonight.

Overhead was the murmur of ships passing over, all black and much larger then a voot cruiser. The smooth metal outside the ships shone marvellously under the glow of the almost full moon as they sped over the old city. Inside the ship at the back of the group, a rather small Irken with large but serious purple eyes was driving it, his antennae pricked. Behind him was some sort of a little 'room' in the back of the ship, like the kind used to transport criminals to jail, with two seats facing each other were. In one of the seats a human, with black hair - jelled to look light some sort of lightning bolt - brown eyes and glasses, sat, staring worriedly at the Irken opposite him. The Irken was holding a black, long gun, and as he pressed a round green button on it, his dark blue eyes looked up at the human opposite him, giving him a hint to do the same. _Ready the gun_, the human thought as he did so with his small gun, which he had been fiddling with since they had set off.

Outside, on the streets, a silhouette was running as fast as it could, in the same direction as the ship was heading, by the looks of it. It turned a corner and carried on running. Its legs were thin and seemed to look prone to tripping, but the shadow was running faster than you would predict it to. Feet hammering on the street, it ran. Faster, Faster. Almost there...

It turned again, this time slipping a bit, but he quickly corrected itself and ran on.

Back in the back of the ship, next to the human, were a number of Irken and human police, who seemed to be more nervous than any of the others. No one had come to this place for years.

Run, run. Right. He was in the perfect place. The old human building had some sort of roof outside, hanging over the pathway. No one should see him, and he wouldn't attract any attention. Without warning, metal legs seemed to grow out of the shadow's back. PAK legs. They certainly helped him, and he tripled in speed, jumping over anything in his way.

Finally, after a high jump to the floor, the shadow stopped, and his PAK legs went back into their hiding place. There was a faint light outside, and you could see that the shadow was an Irken. His pinkish-red eyes open and alert, he turned to face the building. There was a wooden door, and the Irken grabbed it, pulling as hard as he could to open it. It opened with ease, and he kicked open a gate behind the door. Stupid villain, he hadn't locked the doors.

Running inside, the Irken seemed to be overlooking a stairway. Going down one flight of stairs, he was soon stopped. A light had caught his eye, and some human was holding a flashlight, his brown hair and blue eyes barely noticeable. The Irken backed away and listened while the human was making his way towards him.

_Human, male, clearly a confused idiot, _the Irken thought, _first point of attack: hit his right ear to stun the hairless ape, then grab his neck, paralyse vocal cords so he can't scream, three: punch him right under the ribs, they're sensitive there, and four: grab his left leg and hit him on his kneecap, chance of him getting up from it and following me, or reporting on my entry into the building: unlikely. Amazingly unlikely._

Footsteps came closer and closer, and the Irken readied himself. The human turned a corner, facing the green alien. CRASH, a hand covered by a plastic glove smashed into his head, three claws behind the rubber threatening to claw him to death. Two fingers grabbed his throat, and as he was about to scream out of pain, something wasn't allowing him to do so. Three fingers in a cone shape hit him somewhere in-between his stomach and ribs. A sickening feeling overwhelmed him. A horrible crunch came from his left knee, and he fell to the floor, not too sure which pain to focus on out of the four spots.

_Nice hat_, the Irken thought, eying the black top-hat the human had on his head. He grabbed it as the human fell backwards, seeming to be fainting out of shock, and popped it on his head before running off, down the circling stairs.

In a room, only lit by four huge candles, there was a strange rock-bed, where some human girl was lying, her eyes rolling around, as if she was looking for something to look at, and her body moving oddly like it was trying to get comfortable on the hard, flat bed. Standing over her head was a tall person wearing a long, flowing red garment, with a hood that covered the person's face as he chanted words that seemed to be in some ancient language.

In that same room, high from the ground, was a sort of 'window' with no glass that simply looked into a hallway. There, standing with arms folded, was the Irken, his eyes more disturbed and curious then concerned as he gazed down at the odd spectacle. Glancing to the side, he saw several humans and Irkens standing at the side. _Hmph, his got fans_, the Irken stared at the strangers who didn't seem to be playing any part in this... 'ceremony'. As he looked back, the man in the red clock had moved away from the girl, standing a few metres away from her. Odd...

A hand grabbed his shoulder. Turning around, the Irken saw a small human with an angry gaze. Clearly another follower. The little human was just about to give his first punch, but an arm went around his neck and squeezed tight. It was that human in the ship. The Irken grabbed his attacker's nose and held it tight, hoping to stop the short human's breathing. He fought back, grabbing the taller human's arms and trying to pull them off.

"What's with the hat?" the human holding the attacker asked.

"Oh, just picked it up," the Irken answered, still holding the human's nose.

"You remember your gun?" the human asked irritably, as if he predicted the answer.

"Ah, knew I forgot something..." the Irken said simply.

The attacker's eyes started closing and he went limp.

"I think that's about it, you are a doctor, let go of the filthy small human," the Irken let the human's nose go. The other human let the attacker fall to the floor, and straightened up, being reminded of his job certainly did make him more self-aware. "Oh yeah, it's nice to see you Dib," the Irken remembered his manners, not that he really cared if he said please or thank you, but he shook his friends hand nevertheless, knowing that Dib was the more sensible one of the two and did this human gesture often.

Dib simply gave a lazy, somewhat fake, smile - he was probably still bugged at the Irken for forgetting his gun. The Irken took off his hat and looked back down at the girl on the bed.

"Where's the inspector?" He asked.

"Getting his troops lined up," Dib said plainly, following the Irken's gaze to the bed.

"Good, very good," the Irken turned around and rushed down the stairs, Dib following him. They came to where the several men and Irkens were standing. Both Dib and the Irken immediately divided, fighting off the group. Dib had a much more 'punch, keep going' fighting style then the Irken, who was certainly showing off all the moves he had, tripping some and often delivering more than one blow. Dib would simply try to punch once and get through the obstacle as fast as he could, though a few of the men kept him busy.

The tall person standing on the other side of the room muttered something and turned around, walking back to the bed. He carried on chanting.

More Irkens and men were arriving, trying to stop the two intruders. Dib was trying to fight off one other human, who was causing him some trouble, as an Irken walked towards him and fired a gun a few metres away from him. A purple flame flew through the air, aiming for his head, but, just in time, he ducked, and it smashed into the human he was fighting against. The human fell to the floor and the purple flame melted into his skull. Bad sight. Ew...

Chanting from the unknown person continued and the girl on the bed grabbed a knife that was placed beside her.

The Irken smashed two clubs onto a human's head and he fell to the floor, knocked out. Looking up, he saw Dib motion with his eyes to the centre of the room.

She lifted the knife, higher and higher.

Dib was still busy fighting off the crowd of attackers and after knocking an Irken out, he pointed his small gun at the person chanting.

The knife was over her neck now, and she was about stab herself right there and then. But something grabbed her arm, stopping her. It was the Irken that was fighting alongside Dib. The girl started to shake and a gust of wind blew out the candles surrounding her. The chanter didn't seem to notice, but, at the fact he'd stopped chanting, he certainly did know what had happened. The Irken held out his clubs to defend himself. The chanter didn't move, his face still hidden.

"Zim," the chanter named the Irken in a whisper draped in silent anger. Zim lowered his clubs as he stared at the tall chanter in front of him. "And his dog," the chanter added, not turning around to face Dib, though obliviously talking about him, "tell me doctor, as a medical man, have you enjoyed my work?" he asked Dib.

"Let me show you how much I've enjoyed it," Dib picked up a long wooden stick and walked towards him, ready to hit it against the chanter's head.

"Dib!" Zim held out his club, stopping Dib from coming any closer. When Dib stopped, he spotted a thin, long, piece of glass, a sort of wannabe sword, right in front of him. Had he taken another step, it would it stabbed him in the chest, and even if it had smashed, it wouldn't be a wise thing to do. The chanter was holding it tightly.

"How did you see that?" Dib asked, confused.

"Idiot. I was looking for it," Zim smashed his clubs on the glass to make it shatter. Holding his gun right up to the chanter, Dib waited for Zim to grab the man's hood and pull it back. Once Zim did, both of their eyes grew big.

"Tallest Red..." Dib seemed slightly confused as he said the chanter's name, but didn't allow his gun to move away from the high-status Irken.

His red eyes looking sideways, the Tallest noticed Zim's flabbergasted expression, and a trace of a smile appeared on his face. He looked back at Dib.

"You seem surprised," the tall Irken commented, his eyes narrowing.

"Dib-boy," Zim called his friend by the name Zim normally used in arguments with the human, "Help the girl."

"I like your thinking," Dib said in a sour tone, as he walked towards the bed, giving Red a blow to his head with his stick. Zim watched without objection, giving of a little chuckle.

"Whoa, I'd leave that alone if I were you," came a voice behind Zim. Turning around, he could see an Irken (his uniform suggesting he was an inspector) towering over one of the human followers of Red. The Irken inspector held out a gun at the human on the floor, "Drop it," he motioned to the gun the human was holding. The quivering man let his gun fall to the floor, staring up at the Irken, "good Lad," the inspector smiled. Irken and human police were coming into the room, putting handcuffs onto Red's followers on the floor.

"Amazing timing, Flint," Zim called out at the inspector. Looking up, the Irken inspector's eyes grew wide and had a glare of anger in them. "We've fixed everything here, just need your help to clean up the mess."

There was a slight awkward pause.

"This girl needs the hospital immediately," Dib called out.

"Put her at the back of the ship," Flint, the inspector, ordered two of the policemen. Another Irken policeman went up to Red and put him in some handcuffs, though seemed to be put on edge when Red gave him a warning glare. Flint rolled his eyes as the policeman took a step back warily, "Get the criminal out of my sight," Flint gave another order. The Irken policeman took a step closer to Red, though shaking as all those stories and rumours about Red zoomed through his mind. Giving Red a little push, the policeman got the tall Irken to start walking out of the room, and he strangely wasn't protesting as he was forced out. Turning to face Zim, who had positioned himself next to the inspector, Flint narrowed his eyes menacingly, "You were supposed to wait for my orders."

Zim cleared his throat, "If I had followed your _brainless_ plan, then you would be cleaning up that girl's corpse," Flint thought about the point he was making, but he refused to completely agree with the shorter Irken.

"Well," Flint tried to sound positive, "Earth will breathe a sigh of relief, at least."

"Thanks to _ZIM_," Zim emphasised his own name with pride.

"Gentlemen," a voice called out at the two Irkens. Looking to the side, both of them saw a human holding a large black camera in his hands, "Cheese!"

Oh goodness...

* * *

I DO NOT OWN INVADER ZIM OR SHERLOCK HOLMES AND GAIN NO MONEY FROM WRITING THIS STORY.

Disclaimers... pfft...

Well, I introduced my first quite major OC, Flint, who is so much fun to write =D he's just a totally different character compared with most of the characters I write about... review plzzzz :)

Time in movie: 6 minutes 41 secounds

Words (the ones in the actual story): 2,362


	2. Chapter 2: At Chuck's

A/N: Well, I'm one lazy person for starting the next chapter 2 days after finishing the first :P and uploading it a month and a half later :PPP

Invader Johnny gave me the idea of rather using Zita for Mary instead of an OC. Can I just say: THANK YOU! I was dreading the time I would have to think about a name and how my OC looked (I usually only get into how my OCs look when I'm writing the part of the story they come in) so the idea of using Zita has saved me from adding another OC to the story! For now that is... (cough cough)

So, the Dib x OC has been changed to Dib x Zita... they are sort of cute together... ^^

And, btw, if you didn't figure it out, Dib's an adult... just saying...

* * *

The streets were buzzing with Irkens and humans making their way in and out shops. Ships flew above them, filling the atmosphere with the variety of sizes, shapes and colours blocking out the blue sky and sun. Not that this was a problem, it was just the normal busy and crowded feel of Chef Street. There were few houses there, but the ones that were there were huge and space-taking, and it just so happened that one Doctor had decided it would be a good idea to live in one of the homes.

"Thank you, son, for allowing me and your sister to stay here for the night," Dib's father said, grabbing a small brief case.

"No problem, you needed a place to stay for the night, and you're family," Dib said as warmly as he could, though he really hated having his critical dad and freaky sister crawling around in his house.

"You're not still doing any... crazy science, are you?" Professor Membrane raised an eyebrow and narrowed his eyes.

_Typical_, Dib clenched his fits together angrily. Ok, he could admit that, as a child, he was fascinated with paranormal creatures and beings, but why no one could tell that the kid that lived down the street was a Yeti, he would never know. He had given up on trying to prove to others that those types of things were real, though he always kept in mind that before Irkens and humans met, you'd be considered crazy to believe in aliens, so maybe all that the other stuff needed was some time for them to be discovered. Irkens had been allies with humans for about fifty years now, and the alliance started twenty-eight years before Dib had been born. It took millions of years for humans to find out about aliens, so sooner or later people would realize that magical beasts were real, but for now, they were simply undiscovered creatures like the Irkens used to be.

"No, dad," _just leave it to that_, Dib thought.

"So you're moving to a new house?" Membrane asked.

Dib gave a nod.

BANG BANG! Two loud thuds echoed in the large house, shocking both Dib and he's dad.

"That was a gun!" Professor Membrane yelled out, dropping his brief case.

"No, no..." Dib said shakily, "Must be someone hammering a nail into... something..." the black-haired human bit his lip, knowing that he hadn't calmed his father down, "It's probably Zim putting up a painting... he's a fan of... Picasso."

Membrane didn't look very convinced.

"I'll... I'll go and check," Dib turned around, walking to the door.

"Your friend, Zim," Professor Membrane grabbed his son's sleeve to stop him.

"Yes?" Dib looked over his shoulder.

"He won't be staying in your new house, will he?" Membrane looked rather worried, thinking of how the Irken would burn down the house within a week.

"No he won't," Dib said angrily, more to himself then his dad, continuing out of the room. He opened the door and the moment he shut it, a tall, purple-haired girl walked into the hallway.

"Zim better not shoot me, Dib," she crossed her arms, "Because, if he does, I shall make misery infect your horrible life and pain will forever be in your soul."

The glare she gave him sent the message that she wasn't lying.

"I know, Gaz," Dib said calmly, "Relax."

"And you took the last soda," she narrowed her eyes.

"I'll buy you a box of sodas, don't worry."

She seemed satisfied enough at that.

BANG!

Gaz looked to her right at a wooden door and back at Dib expectantly. Sighing, he made his way to the door, giving two knocks and opening it, not waiting for an answer. There sat the green Irken with a dark red gun in his hand.

"Permission to enter?" Dib said irritably.

"Granted," Zim let the gun blast another purple flame – that had replaced bullets years ago – into the wall, melting a hole into it, "Dib, I'm making a device that will suppress the sound of a gunshot – genius, isn't it?"

"Well, it's not working," Dib growled, "Can I see that?" he walked up to Zim, who gave him the gun reluctantly.

There was some odd blue rubber materiel that Zim had put at the end of the gun. Pulling it off, Dib threw it into a nearby bin.

"Hey!" Zim hollered.

Grabbing a pile of letters on a desk, Dib walked up to a chair at the other side of the room and sat down, "It's been three months since our last case, Zim," he looked up at the Irken, who was looking daggers back at the human. Grabbing a glass, Dib put the letters down and went into a bathroom that was connected to the room, opening a tap. Zim simply looked at the bin longingly, reaching over to it. Dib walked back into the room, holding the glass that was full of water. He smiled as he saw Zim dig his head into the rubbish bin, "Don't you think it's time you found another case?" he asked before throwing the water onto Zim.

"AH!" Zim yelled, sitting up, he's back starting to smoke, "Don't do that! It's my only weakness!"

"Except the peas and the barbeque sauce and-"

"Silence!" Zim stood up and pointed angrily at Dib, who stayed unmoving, a smile plastered on his face.

"So, about the case..." Dib walked over to the pile of letters, picking them up. He grabbed a day-old newspaper and threw it to Zim, "Start looking."

_Stupid human_, Zim caught the paper and leaned against the wall, flipping through it.

"Let's see," Dib started reading the first letter, "Gretchen Glasses, her husband has disappeared."

"Iggins lost his Nintendo," Zim called out, his eyelids half closed. Dib gave a glance at the newspaper. Odd thing to write in there.

"Tallest Miyuki... her emerald bracelet has been stolen," he shifted his attention back to the letters.

"Tenn broke up with her boyfriend... finally! That guy wasn't good enough to go out with pig arteries!" a smile escaped Zim's face. Dib sighed. Zim was looking in the gossip section... again...

"Focus," Dib ordered. Zim didn't respond, but his antennae went up suddenly.

"You're going to Red's... execution?" he asked, glancing up at Dib.

"Yes, they need a doctor to say he is dead and I wanted to see this case to the end," Dib raised his head to see what Zim would say, but the Irken said nothing, his large eyes back on the newspaper.

The door to the room opened, and in stepped Gaz with angry, narrowed eyes.

"There's one case I would like to look at," Zim stared directly at Gaz, "the curious case of Miss Gaz," Gaz turned her attention to Zim, giving him a death glare, "Dr. Dib's younger sister... I've been studying her comings and goings... they seem rather... suspicious."

"If you want to keep two of your limbs, Zim, you better be quiet," Gaz sneered at him. She knew Zim was just teasing, but no one teases Gaz. She turned to look at her brother, "There's another strike, so the plane isn't leaving anymore. Me and dad have to stay here till we get another plane ticket."

"Oh, ok," Dib felt like slapping himself for allowing them to stay here in the first place.

Gaz turned on her heel, but stopped, looking at the ground. There, motionless, was a greenish-yellow dog with black ears, legs and tail, lying on the ground.

"Zim's killed the dog," she stated, carrying on to the door, "again..." she exited the room.

Dib's eyes widened and he walked to the small dog, kneeling on the ground, "What have you done to Gir now?"

"I was simply testing an anapaestic," Zim lifted a non-existent eyebrow, trying to act innocent, "He doesn't mind..." Zim glimpsed down at the dog.

"Zim... as your doctor," Dib got up to face the Irken.

"You're not my doctor," Zim commented.

"As your friend," Dib stopped himself from yelling, "You've been in this room for two whole weeks, I insist, you have to get out!"

"There's nothing to interest me on this planet at all, where should I go?" Zim gave Dib a questioning look. Taking a deep breath, Dib relaxed his shoulders, trying to calm down.

"So you're free this evening?" He asked with an annoyed tone.

"Yes." Zim answered.

"Dinner?"

"Wonderful."

"Chuck's Restaurant?"

"My favourite."

Dib paused, "Zita's coming."

Zim's eyes widened. Zita and Dib had been together for three years, though Zim at had never personally talked to her. He refused to do so, since he wasn't really that interested in his friend's love life and not seeing the point of meeting her.

"What's going on?" the Irken stared at his friend.

"You're going to meet her, Zim," Dib stated impatiently. Zim stayed silent for a moment or two, thinking through what Dib had just said.

"Have you proposed yet?" he asked.

"No, I haven't found the right ring," Dib admitted.

"Well, then, it's not official?" Zim stopped himself from laughing at the excuse.

"It's happening, whether you like it or not," Dib's brown eyes looked sternly at Zim, indicating that the subject was not to be questioned anymore, "and wear a jacket," Dib walked to the door, slamming it as he went out of the room.

"You wear a jacket," Zim huffed, staring at the door with narrowed eyes.

* * *

The restaurant was having one of its busy nights by the look of it. Zim was sitting at a round table for three, a white textile draping it. He had some form of formal clothing on, not wearing his usual striped, pinkish-red shirt with black pants, boots and gloves, but rather wearing a black, unbuttoned shirt with a white T-shirt underneath, with a badly tied grey tie – which was originally humans wore, but the fashion from the Earthlings had caught on to many Irkens – and the same old black pants he usually wore. He had 'borrowed' a pair of Dib's formal black shoes to try to complete the look. He hated it, but human fashion was more used then Irken fashion these days, and he was on Earth, after all.

He didn't like the restaurant so far, the horrible music made by a man playing an instrument Zim had learned was called a 'violin' and the loud chatting amongst the humans and other Irkens. This restaurant had food that was edible for both Irkens and humans, so you would often see a mix between the two races.

Glancing to the side, Zim saw a human couple seeming to be fighting over something, what that was, Zim couldn't be any less bothered to know. They were only stupid humans having a relationship crisis. The man looked very confused and had put his knife and fork down, while the woman was gripping her cutlery tightly. Earth cutlery, Zim noted. Laughter came from a group of Irkens that had a huge table all to themselves – they were all clearly taller than Zim and clearly all high ranking. Feeling a twinge of envy, Zim looked down at the table, and slowly closed his eyes, listening to the chatting, laughing and dreadful music.

"Zim?" a voice asked. Opening his eyes, Zim saw Dib and some other human girl who had her arm hooked into his and a friendly smile on her face. She had short, light purple hair that had a black Alice band in it and her dark eyes stared down at Zim with amusement – he must have looked like he fell asleep or something. "You're early," Dib's icy gaze showed he still was annoyed with Zim.

"Fashionably," Zim chirped.

"This is Zita," Dib introduced Zim to the woman standing next to Dib.

"Ah. It's good to meet you," Zim stood up and shook her hand. He noticed that she was half an inch taller than him, which he didn't really like. "I wonder why it has taken so long for us to be introduced properly," Zim gave a smile at Dib, clearly trying to play the game 'let's see how long Dib can be annoyed until he slaps Zim'.

"The pleasure is mine," Zita smiled, taking a seat. Dib and Zim did the same, giving each other a glance, Dib's saying: 'Don't you dare do anything out of the ordinary' and Zim's saying: 'You'll regret this'. "I've heard so much about you, Zim," Zita continued, "I've got a pile of detective books at home."

"It's true," Dib gave a sweet smile at her.

"Though some seem a bit... farfetched... making these huge predictions out of the smallest details," Zita looked at Zim, expecting him to agree with her.

"Actually, they aren't very... _farfetched_. It's the little details that are the most important," Zim commented. The Irken had heard humans use the word 'farfetched' before and he knew what it meant, though he always thought it was a funny word. Zita's confused face showed that she didn't exactly understand what he meant. Zim sighed, "Take Dib."

"I intend to," Zita smiled at the other human, who gave a smile back. Zim gave off a nervous chuckle, not really liking Zita's mushy comment. _Humans are so emotion-filled creatures_, Zim thought.

"See his shirt?" Zim grabbed Dib's black shirt, trying to get Zita's attention, "Looks rather normal, but there are two small holes in it, about four centimetres away from each other," Zita had to narrow her eyes and lean in before she could see what holes he was talking about, "They're right above the pocket, and I would think it is from a badge of some sort," Zim then grabbed the end of Dib's long sleeve on his left arm, "over here, a faint grey stain, hard to see against the black, but it's there," Zita didn't see a thing at first, but soon caught sight of it, "I would say it is from the substance known as 'grey ketchup' used by paranormal investigators to try to lure in ghosts. It's said to have a smell that attracts them. It's got about the same density as ketchup and is grey," Zim looked at Dib, "Been ghost hunting? Maybe with some group of ghost believers, who may have a certain badge that members of the group wear?"

Dib bit his lip in embarrassment, "Well... it was years ago," he didn't have to look at Zita to know she had a surprised look on her face.

"The stain says so too, about five years, to be exact," Zim let his friend's arm go and sat back in his seat, a proud smile on his face.

"You believe in ghosts?" Zita asked Dib.

"Well... not anymore," _his diary doesn't say that_, Zim couldn't help give a quick chuckle, _it says he swears there's a ghost at the nearest bakery and that he saw bigfoot the other day behind a shoe shop_.

"Well, with all due respect, Zim, you know Dib very well," somehow Zita's interest had shifted back to Zim, "How about a complete stranger? What can you tell about me?"

Zim's antennae rose at Zita's question, "You?"

"I don't think that's-" Dib interrupted.

"I insist," Zita said.

"You insist?" Zim faked astonishment.

"You remember we discussed this," Dib tried again.

"She insists," Zim faced Dib, giving him a warning stare not to come into the following conversation. Zim shifted his chair closer to Zita, taking a few moments to plan out what he was going to say, "You're a private teacher."

"Well done," Zita gave a smile.

"Yes, well done, now should we-" Dib said tensely. Zim ignored him.

"Your student... spoiled, much?"

"Slightly, yes he is," Zita raised an eyebrow.

"And his age..."

"Seven."

"I can see you taught him today, did he give you the ink on your face?"

Zita gasped and looked at Dib, "Is there ink on my face?"

"There is nothing on your face," Dib said sternly.

"Two drops, on your chin, actually," Zim carried on, "He's hard to work with and very rough, so his mum gave you that bracelet to stop you from quitting," Zim pointed at her wrist, which had a pearl bracelet on it, "If you will allow it, the great_ Zim_ will tell you even more details on your life."

"Zim," Dib snapped.

"You were engaged... the ring is gone, but the lighter skin left by it suggests that you spent some time abroad, and you were proud of it until you found out its real worth and decided that the man you were engaged to didn't care about you and was a poor hobo, so then you broke off the engagement," Zim didn't notice the tense look in Zita's face. He turned to face Dib, "I'm good, huh?"

Zita glanced at a muffin that had been standing, untouched, on the table. With a sour expression, she threw the muffin at Zim. Zim didn't move, caught by surprise.

"Well, very accurate, Zim," Zita said, "but you made one mistake. I didn't leave him... he died." Zim remained unmoving as Zita stood up, leaving the table.

"Nice work, Zim," Dib sighed and stood up too, leaving the Irken at the table alone.

_Well, that was an interesting first meeting..._

* * *

I DO NOT OWN INVADER ZIM AND SHERLOCK HOLMES IN ANYWAY AND GAIN NO MONEY FROM WRITING THIS STORY.

A/N: Goodness, I don't like this chapter :P and, yes, Gir is the dog xD BUT he's not a robot, he's a real dog. Just think of his dog disguise. Also, the 'grey ketchup' (not gray, I write in UK English, so don't say I spelt it wrong) is totally made up. I needed something that seemed... paranormal investigator-like. I'm having some problems with mixing Zim and Holmes. They're so different! I've decided Zim's hate for humanity and pride will be the main Zim-like features, though he's not really IC. Also, I couldn't resist doing the Iggins and Nintendo thing... lol...

Oh yeah, and remember the lesson in this chapter: when someone's annoying you, throw a muffin at them ;D

Time in movie: 15 minutes and 45 seconds (hey, that's not too bad)

Words in the actual story: 2, 874


	3. Chapter 3: Farewell my enemy

The guard walked down the dark grey hallway, followed by several others. The rain was hammering on the ceiling, as if to warn them to turn back, but a job is a job, and there was no way he was going to let that alien screw up his salary. Angry roars came from the prisoners as he passed their cells, but he paid no attention to them. There was another guard at the end of the hallway, standing a good few meters away from a cell where a shadow stood, staring at the guards silently.

"What the hell is going on here Torr?" the first guard yelled at the one at the end of the corridor as he neared him.

"T-Tallest Red's put him under some kind of spell, sir," he answered shakily, antennae quivering. The first guard glanced behind the Irken guard and saw another guard – human like himself – holding onto his neck, lying flat on the floor and making a sick gurgling noise, "it's like his insides are on fire..."

"Get this man out of here!" the guard shouted an order. All the other guards crowded around the man and started dragging him down the passage. The first guard stayed where he was, watching the others make their way to the entrance on the other side of the foyer. He gave a sigh and slid his hand through his brown hair, slightly knocking his hat on a tilt. He turned around, took a few steps forward towards the cell that was at the end of the corridor and stared as fiercely as he could at the silhouette, "What's this all about, Red?"

The figure was silent for a second. It stayed deep in the dark cell, only the faint glow of his red eyes proving that he was a living thing.

"There's someone I want to see..." a low and haunting voice echoed in the cell, "It's just a little request... nothing more..."

* * *

Dib opened the front door, taking in a deep breath to calm himself down. Sure, he had thought that today would be normal, that he would go to his office, meet patients and hopefully forget about last night's short dinner. Hey, maybe Zita might even pop round to say hi, or maybe there'll be some new gossip going around in the hospital, but, much to his annoyance, his first phone call was about something far off treating a stomach bug.

So it was off back home.

Dib went up the house's stairs and immediately went towards that room that seemed to have become his friend's den. He slammed the door open, finding Zim sitting at a desk, eyes wide and concentrated as he plucked at an old banjo in his amateur style.

"Let me guess, you used the phone's wires to replace the broken strings on the banjo," Dib huffed. Was it possible to leave Zim alone for a second without the Irken breaking, cutting or simply destroying something?

"Dib! I have started an experiment on a moth's reaction to the outside world-" Zim was staring at a small transparent cup with a book on top of it. Four moths were flapping around inside it.

"You do realize that what you're drinking is meant for antennae surgery," Dib glanced at a coffee beaker next to Zim that had some funny liquid filling it up halfway.

"It's better than your _water_," Zim hissed, "Now, observe as I play certain notes..."

"How did you get those moths in there?"

"Six hours of pure patience, Dib... and boredom from waking up at two in the morning with nothing to do..." Zim explained while plucking the highest string on the banjo.

"You've got something to do now, Zim," Dib took the book off the cup and tapped it once or twice to get the moths to leave their container.

"NO!" Zim tried to grab them as they flew away.

"You're Red's last request," Zim froze at what Dib said.

"Tallest Red?" Zim asked.

"Unless you know any other Red in jail, yes," Dib answered.

"What does he want?"

"How the heck am I supposed to know?" Dib huffed.

"I guess I'll have to find out myself..." Zim said, scratching his chin and staring at the floor. He looked back up at Dib angrily, "What are you doing, Dib-human? We've got to get going now before the visiting hours close!"

"But it's eight in the morning, they've just opened."

"Nonsense. Now, quickly, Dib, to the Voot Cruiser!"

* * *

After a short quarrel between who should drive, Dib reluctantly let Zim take control of the Voot Cruiser. The radio had been broken when Zim wanted to make a communicator that wouldn't cost him money for when he called his friends back on Irk (though he broke that too, in the end), so there was no music to fill up the silence in the Voot Cruiser. Dib stared out the window with a sour expression and the stillness was starting to irate Zim. Glancing out at a large building that was halfway to completion, Zim gave a smile as an idea came into his head to break the silence.

"Irken technology has certainly improved human life. Just look at that marvellous building, the perfect example of how advanced the Irken race is..." Zim boasted, admiring his own species.

"Hmph..." was all Dib managed to reply.

"Why, you humans would still be in your little land-transportation vehicles if it weren't for us," Zim carried on. Dib stayed silent, still staring outside the window. "Did you know there's a Vortian Band coming to Earth? They're called the Resisty. Apparently they make that 'rock' sound you humans talk about. I can get tickets."

Dib didn't respond.

"Oh, silly Dib-human. Are you so sorrowful because you have to sit in the passenger seat? It's ok. No one can really win an argument when against _Zim_."

"Shut up, Zim," Dib snapped, "I don't care if I drive the Voot Cruiser or not..."

"Yes you do! Look at you! You're miserable. Well, there's no reason to be jealous of me-"

"Jealous of you? I'm happy I'm not you!" Dib yelled, "Because I'm gunna beat you up like there's no tomorrow if you keep being so _annoying_."

"Not jealous of me? Then what is causing your human emotions to be so... _unhappy_?"

"_Unhappy_? You mean _furious_! You ruined your first meeting with Zita! Can you do anything right?" Dib yelled.

"Of course, I am Zim."

Dib shook his head, "You owe her an apology."

"Zim doesn't owe any 'apologies'."

"You know what? Let's forget about it, for now at least, and focus on Red," Dib dismissed the conversation and went back to staring out the window. His mouth dropped open.

There was a huge crowd of Irkens and humans with boards saying: 'Killing the murder will only make him more thirsty for blood', 'We're opening the door into a room of difficult times', 'If we anger the evil Wizard, we will be cursed' and 'We are Doomed!', all shouting out at no one in particular. Police were trying to get the crowd to leave, but it was obvious the protestors had no intention of going home.

"I think we're here..." Dib murmured.

* * *

Zim followed the Irken guard down a corridor. The walls were all made from the primitive human cement and Zim wasn't surprised to hear the prisoners yelling and throwing food at him and the guard – living in such an old place must really start to get annoying after a while, or at least that's what Zim thought. The guard opened a rusted metal door and motioned Zim to follow him. The door opened to another corridor, a smaller one, however, and with empty cells. It was strangely silent in here compared to the last corridor.

"What happened to all the prisoners?" Zim asked.

"Oh, this part of the jail is empty. We usually use it for prisoners with health problems..." the guard explained.

"Is Tallest Red sick?"

"No, but we moved him in here after last night's guard got... 'attacked' by him. We're keeping him away from the other prisoners, just in case he decides to make one of them his next victim," the other Irken answered. He stopped as they neared the cell at the end of the short corridor. Zim stopped as well and gave him a questioning look. The guard's dark red eyes were fixed on the cell five meters in front of him. They were filled with a type of fear most would see in a child's eyes just before the lights were switched off for bedtime.

"I'll go by myself," Zim said before carrying on walking towards the cell. If he had turned around, he would have seen the guard's grateful face before he turned around to leave the corridor.

As he neared the prison cell, Zim could see a figure sitting on a bed, its back facing him. It was silent, but Zim could sense it knew about his presence. Glancing up, Zim saw that the light had been shattered into pieces and noticed that the bulb was lying directly underneath it, also smashed; the glass littering the floor.

"I never knew you hated the light that much," Zim commented.

"I don't need it, so why have it?" the figured replied, still unmoving. "So, you accepted my invitation, did you? Where's you human pet?"

"He said the next time he sees you, he wants to see you dead."

"Oh, so it's him who'll pronounce me dead, is it?" the figure's antennae rose slightly.

"Good guess," Zim leaned against the cell bars, "Now what do you want?"

"Me?" the figure finally turned around and stood up. No doubt about it, this was Red. His maroon shirt hung loosely on him and his black trousers went past his feet as he towered over the much shorter Irken. His shining red eyes seemed to look friendly for someone who was staring at a person who was partly responsible for his future execution. "I thought we could have one last chat. You know, enemy to enemy?"

"Don't be stupid," Zim laughed, "the only thing to say to you is: I won! You lost! Ha!" Zim cheered. Red's eyes narrowed. He had always been patient, but Zim was already pushing his luck.

"I think you're letting your guard down far too soon, Zim," Red took a step forward.

"And I think you're getting your hopes up that you'll be let off on good behaviour," Zim mocked.

"Still got a sense of humour, have you?" Red said dryly, "It's not like you to be making up come-backs like that when it's someone from your own race you're talking to."

"I know," Zim admitted, "but you're more of an insult to our kind than anything else."

Red smiled, "An insult? Your arrogance is more of an insult. You praise yourself for everything you do, and you make sure the whole planet knows about your accomplishments. But I wonder: do you praise yourself because no one ever praised you? Not that I'm being personal, just curious."

Zim had to stop himself from reaching in the cell and strangling Red, "You're just trying to be clever."

"Oh, but I am, Zim. You'd be surprised," Red's arms folded as he gave off a sly grin.

"If you passed first grade I'd be surprised," Zim started to realize that Red was playing the same game that Zim always played with Dib, the 'annoy person to the limit' game. But Zim knew Red would go over the limit, and push Zim right of the edge.

Red's grin widened instead of fading away. And, to surprise Zim even more, Red started to chuckle. It must have been the first time Zim saw him laugh, and he had chosen one of the most inappropriate times too.

"Why are you laughing?" Zim yelled. Red was winning the game. Looking back at the shorter Irken, Red's smile finally disappeared.

"Because you're an idiot."

"You take that back!"

"Oh no, Zim. Believe me, my thoughts about you should be the least of your worries. I suggest you keep your antennae up. This isn't over – far from it. And, anyway," Red continued, "sleeping with one eye open may help you keep your job."

"You really have gone nuts," Zim retorted, "Why would I ever let something so big that it can change my whole career pass by me? I am Zim, remember? I mean, it doesn't make sense that you think-"

"Open up your mind to new possibilities, Zim. Not everything has to make sense. Now pay attention. Three more will die in the coming days. There is nothing you can do about it, so I advice you stay away from the case," Red's haunting voice echoed. Zim remained silent for a second before making a 'pfft' noise, starting to walk to the door at the end of the hallway. He had told Dib that no one could win an argument with him, but Red had just proven him otherwise. Zim had to keep in his mind that, overall, he was the winner. Red was the one who was going to be executed, not him.

But, still, the last thing Red said shocked Zim. Red doesn't lie. He just twists the truth, puts it in riddles and adds some hocus-pocus magic words to whatever he says. There was no need to worry about him, though, Zim knew that. The Irken Tallest was spending his last few hours in that cell and there was a high chance that Red just wanted to cause Zim a sleepless night. But the serious tone that Red spoke in was one that could make you believe anything. And it was clear Red wasn't wishing Zim a happy life.

"Goodbye, Zim," came a low, taunting voice behind Zim as he neared the door at the end of the corridor, "And remind your human pet that I've got an appointment with death that I'll be walking away from."

At that moment, Zim had to admit that the shouts and screams from behind the door in front of him sounded far more inviting than Red's calm yet fear-provoking voice.

* * *

"What did he want?" Flint was standing outside the jail, curious to know Red's intentions.

"I don't know..." Zim stared at the floor, only half listening to the inspector, "but I don't think it's anything to worry about."

"Of course it's not. He'll be dead by the end of the day," Dib, who was standing next to Flint, said. Zim half-heartedly gave a nod. Flint didn't look convinced, though.

"Knowing Red, he's got something up his sleeve that'll at least cause a stir in this public. He'll probably do a cartwheel or something before he dies just to go out with a bang," Flint hissed.

"Oh, come on. Everyone will be over it by the end of the week. Red's not that big of an influence," Dib replied calmly.

"There's a whole flipping protest about him! You call that 'not that big of an influence'? That guy will do anything to start a riot," Flint motioned at the protesters outside the jail, "and I think he's damn successful at it."

"You worry too much."

"Ha! Me worry too much? I'm the only one with some sense around here. Everyone's scared out of their pants, you're acting as if it's the weekend and Zim just seems to be aging a year every day!"

"Shut up! It's that antennae surgery stuff that's making me sleepy," Zim yelled.

"Antennae surgery?"

"I think Zim thought it was coffee," Dib murmured.

Flint slapped his face, "Everyone's gone mad... well, I guess the sooner Red's gone the sooner things will settle down, though I'm not so sure on your 'one week' prediction, Dib," Flint sighed, "I think I need to get back to Irk. Earth gives me a headache."

* * *

Executions had come a long way since beheadings and hangings. Now, in the extremely unlikely case of someone being killed for a crime, it was far more humane (or Irkene, whichever you prefer). It was like the putting down of a dog or cat. One small injection was all it took. In a sense, it was far more daunting. Far more slower, far less painful, very unnatural and just a frightening idea of waiting to 'fall asleep'. It rarely happened, so this was the first time Dib had to call someone dead who had just been executed.

Dib wasn't there, though.

He didn't see it.

He could only hear mumbling through the walls.

"Tallest Red, you are being executed for murdering five innocent woman, the attempted murder of a sixth-"

As much as Dib despised Red, he felt guilty for being one of the people responsible for catching the Irken. He knew that if Red were to curse a number of names, Dib's would be one of them. However, listening to all Red had done helped banish the guilt. If this is what he deserved, then Dib figured that he shouldn't feel guilty.

"Do you have any last words?"

Dib couldn't help lean closer to the wall. _He'll probably do a cartwheel or something before he dies just to go out with a bang_, Flint had said. Maybe he was right – though not about the cartwheel. Whatever Red said now could cause a stir, and it seemed awfully like Red to do so.

"This isn't over..."

Dib's eyes widened in surprise. He had expected something more like some sort of curse to freak everybody out, but he had just said that 'this isn't over', three unsettling words. And when they called him in to pronounce Red dead, Dib felt a shiver run down his spine.

But when putting his index and middle finger on Red's skinny wrist and feeling no heartbeat, relief hit Dib, and he pushed what Red had said out of his head. As far as he was concerned, this case was finished.

* * *

I DO NOT OWN INVADER ZIM OR SHERLOCK HOLMES, I DO NOT CLAIM TO AND I GAIN ABOSOLUTELY NO MONEY FROM WRITING THIS STORY. BOTH EPIC STORIES BELONG TO THEIR RIGHTFUL OWNERS. DO YOU UNDERSTAND? GOOD.

A/N: I'M ON A ROLL! Well, sort of =D

I feel kinda guilty making Red the villain... he's one of my favs! But, hey, he is sort of villainy. Not a lot, but a bit. A tini-tiny bit. And, if anyone's wondering, yes the Tallest have their hovering uniform thingy, but 1: they don't have to wear it and 2: Red can't wear it cuz he's a criminal and everything. Oh yeah, and he's meant to have done a lot more bad stuff than Blackwood did in the movie, but I couldn't be bothered to type them in :P And the 'This isn't over' thing is kinda cliché-ish, but oh well... plz review :D

Btw, I have a feeling that I made a few typos, but this chapter has gone through so much changing and checking that I'm sick and tired of reading through it :P

Time in movie: 27 minutes 52 seconds

Words: 2,989


	4. Chapter 4: Morning Sleepyhead

A/N: My word, I've been a bad girl again O.O I only started this chapter three days after I finished the last one. I have a reason this time, though! I haven't been addicted to a song for ages (hey, three days is a long time for me!) and my brain doesn't work so well when there isn't a good song in my head. However, one of my rocker buddies introduced me to two amazing songs, so now I'm happy again :) I'm officially a Shinedown fan now :D (I was before, but now I'm even more of a fan, lol)

* * *

If Red had wanted to cause Zim sleepless nights, he had failed. It was three days after Red's execution and Zim was sleeping in again. Not that he needed to sleep – PAKs provided energy for Irkens – but a few human habits had rubbed off of him, and sleeping was also good way to relax. He did find the old guest bed in his room quite comfortable too. It was small and only had a thin dark brown blanket on it, but it seemed to be the only furniture Dib had that didn't give Zim a backache.

"You still asleep?"

And then there was dreaming: something that confused Zim when he woke up from his first night sleeping. Dib explained that it was just a natural thing. Zim still found it creepy, though.

"Zim?"

What bothered Zim were the faces that kept flashing up in his mind the last few nights in his dreams. Sometimes it was of Zita, often followed by Dib, both of them giving him angry glares.

"Hello?"

'You owe her an apology' would echo in the background. 'Zim doesn't owe any 'apologies''. Maybe Dib was right. Maybe he had been a bit rude.

"_Hello_?"

Then there was Red, he'd pop up every now and then, that same smile he wore last time Zim saw him on his face. His laugh still there. It sounded so real Zim could swear that Red was standing right next to him.

"Zim! Wake up you idiot!"

And, every so often, there would be Tak...

"Zim!" something shook his shoulder roughly.

"AH!" Zim screamed, opening his eyes and jerking his head around, "Who dares to awaken-?" he was cut off by his own shock. There, standing over him was another Irken, her narrowed dark purple eyes staring down at Zim.

"Good morning."

"T-Tak?" Zim's eyes still hadn't adjusted to the light in the room, the sun heating everything to a warm and comfortable temperature, "You opened the blinds!"

Tak narrowed one eye before turning around, heading over to the other side of the room, "it's almost to summer, Zim, you shouldn't be in this dusty old room," she walked up to a side table and picked up a plate with four cheese sandwiches stacked on top of each other, "I made sandwiches!" she sang, turning around with a smile on her face.

"I hate cheese sandwiches," Zim sneered. Tak's face dropped.

"At least be a bit more appreciative, Zim. I waited for a whole hour for you to wake up. Since when do you even sleep?" Tak set the plate back down.

"I'm... uh... studying human biography."

"Oh really?" Tak didn't look amused, "Well, while I was waiting for you to come out of Slumber-land, I found a file with _my_ name on it."

"Ah, yes, haven't looked in that for a while," Zim started to get out of the bed, trying his best to forget about the pink pyjamas he was wearing.

"I see you're also studying human culture," Tak said, eyeing the PJs.

"Oh, you know me," Zim waved his hand dismissively.

"Sadly, yes," Tak's gloved hands grabbed a sandwich, "want one? Even if you don't like it, it would mean a lot to me if you took it."

"No thanks, I wish not to be poisoned," Zim folded his arms.

"Why are you always so suspicious?"

"Because you're you."

"Is that meant to be an insult?"

Zim hesitated, "Not exactly..." Tak gave off a small smile. Zim's eyes narrowed, "You're after my robot bee aren't you?"

"No, Zim. I'm here to ask you a favour."

"A favour?" Zim tilted his head to the left.

"I want you to find someone for me," Tak dug her hand into the purple shirt's pocket, bringing up a white envelope, "this has all the information you need." She put it next the plate of sandwiches, still staring at Zim.

"And who is this 'someone'?" Zim took a few steps forward.

"Didn't you just here me? It's in the envelope," Tak's voice started to get louder and more irritated. "Well, if you don't mind, I have to leave now. I have a business meeting."

"Business meeting?"

"You get what I mean," Tak winked at Zim before walking to the door, "Cheerio, Zim."

* * *

"I can't believe it," Dib fiddled with the envelope, "Why is it the only person you ever cared for, except yourself, is a World-class criminal? You've got bad taste, Zim."

"Says the guy who's in love with a private teacher," Zim sank down into his seat, antennae pressed against his head. They were in the house's living room, staring at a static TV screen.

"Oh, please. Tak would rather hang you from your toes than go on a date with you," Dib laughed, "She's the only rival to ever outsmart you."

"All right, you've had your fun."

"What does she want anyway?"

"Moving onto the next subject..."

"What does she need that's so important that she would come to you?"

"Doesn't matter..."

Dib opened the envelope and pulled out a cut out from the newspaper, a picture and some other pieces of paper with writing on it. Dib read one of the pieces of paper out loud, "Missing person. Larb, four foot ten, Purple-pink eyes and has one and a half antennae. Case solved! It seems you're not her type. She likes half deaf, freakishly short Irkens. That's why she never liked you back."

"Shut up."

"Well you are short, shorter than her, at least. Not that she's that tall herself-"

"Shut up!"

"You Irkens are so touchy about the subject of height."

"Dib, if you don't shut your noise tube right now-"

"What were you doing?"

"Will you allow me to explain?"

"I wish you would..."

* * *

Tak walked through the door, while I stood motionless; waiting for the click that signalled the door was shut.

_Oh no, you're not going into story mode, are you?_

Shut up, Dib! Anyway, once she closed the door, I ran towards the window, looking out at the street. After a few seconds, I spotted Tak walking out of the door. She turned to her right and headed down the street. I left the window and ran to the door, opening it and running towards the stairs. I raced down them and that's where I encountered you.

"Where are you going almighty and powerful, Zim?" you asked.

_I didn't say that!_

"Um... nowhere, Dib-boy," I answered, deciding that this mission was too dangerous for your inferior human body. So I leapt out of the window-

_Why did you do that, anyway?_

-and let out my PAK legs. I scurried across the wall like a gecko-cheetah-thing.

_In your pyjamas..._

But, sadly, my PAK legs lost their footing and I fell into an open trashcan. The smell was revolting, but I climbed out of the trashcan and bravely ventured on. I ran down the street till I saw Tak. Cleverly hiding behind a McMeaties advertising board, I spied on her as she walked towards an ally that led to some other part of the city. It turned out she wanted to go to that other part of the city. I stealthily followed her. She had no idea I was even there! Then, believe it or not, I saw some strange Irken walk up to her and hold some flowers out.

"You want to buy some flowers? I'll ask only fifty percent since you're so pretty," he asked in his rough voice.

"Oh, why thank you, sir," Tak said, taking the flowers from him, looking flattered. A dark figure walked up behind her – a tall, fat, hideous human with a mole so big you would think he has two heads. He bent over and rested his chin on Tak's right shoulder.

"Let's see how much cash you've got on ya," he whispered, one filthy hand coming up to grab her left arm. I, then, leapt out courageously to save her-

_Ahem..._

Ok, ok, I didn't.

Tak's smile didn't disappear, though. She reached into her right pocket and brought out a small wooden club. She swung it at the man's ugly face and he stumbled backwards, clutching his head. Tak hit him again, this time at the back of his head, instantly knocking him out. The Irken behind her tried to restrain her, grabbing one of her arms, but she gave him a kick in the Squeedily Spooch and got out a knife from her pocket – I don't know how big her pockets are, but the stuff I've seen her pull out makes me wonder if they're a gateway to another universe or something. She brought the knife up to the Irken's neck and pushed him to the wall.

"Hmm..." she looked up and down the Irken's Trench coat – it looked a bit like yours, actually – and put her hand in its large pocket, "let's see what we have here..." she pulled out a leather wallet, smiling proudly, "oh... look at what I found..." she put the wallet in her PAK and slowly moved the knife away from the other Irken's face, stuffing it in her pocket. She gave him one more sweet smile, as if nothing had happened, and turned around to carry on walking away, still holding the flowers.

I carried on following her, hiding behind dustbins, trees, bushes and old people. I passed a sleeping hobo with a dirty blanket over him. Thinking that my pyjamas may prove to make me stand out from the crowd, I grabbed the blanket and threw it over myself. Then, a little human boy with a blue cap passed by me, and I took the cap from him. He yelled at me to give him his cap back, but this mission was too important to be sacrificed for some boy's happiness. I spotted a black piece of fabric on the floor, so I picked it up and covered my left eye with it. Remembering those contacts I had worn to that costume party last month, I got out one of them from my PAK, putting it on my uncovered eye so I'd look like a hybrid between a human and Irken. I pressed my hand against the muddy walls and smeared the dirt all over my face.

_Must have been an improvement._

Silence Dib-stink! So I carried on following Tak, determined to know where she was heading off to. There was a black ship in the ship parking lot which she walked to, the door opening as she neared it. She stepped inside and the door closed. But I was near enough to catch up to the ship before it took off. I grabbed the door's handle and pulled it open. Sitting in the ship was Tak and some shadowed man who I couldn't identify.

"Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could hitch a ride," I asked. But that shadowed man just pulled out a small, black gun, his gloved hands gripping it tightly. I back away, "Sorry, sir," I almost whispered, taking a good few steps back before shutting the door.

* * *

"So you failed," Dib said bluntly.

"No! How? I never fail!" Zim looked genuinely taken aback.

"You wanted to find out what Tak was up to, and you didn't. You're so stupid," Dib sighed, "I think you should just leave the case alone."

"You said I should find another case, and I did," Zim pointed out, "and finding a person who disappeared is easy enough to help me get back into my detective boots."

"Zim, don't you realize this isn't really a case? It's a trick. Why else would Tak ask _you_ to find the man?" Dib sat up straight in his seat. Zim was just about to reply when there was a knock on the front door. "Come on in!" Dib yelled. An Irken policeman opened the door and stepped inside, his face pale.

"Qik," Zim called out the Irken's name in greeting, "what brings you to my house?"

"_My_ house," Dib hissed.

"I-inspector Flint wants to s-see you at once, Zim," Qik rambled, holding onto his hat tightly.

"Argh, what does he want now?" Zim said half-heartedly.

"It's Tallest Red, sir..." Qik's orangey-brown eyes drifted down to the ground, "he's back... from the grave..."

Zim's eyes floated to the TV screen, "He just won't quit, will he?"

"It's not April Fool's day yet, Qik. Red's still in his grave. I pronounced him dead myself," Dib's right index finger ran down the rim of his glasses.

"A man said he saw him walking through the graveyard this morning, sir," Qik continued.

"I'll leave this in your capable hands," Dib turned his head towards Zim, "I've got to meet up with Zita."

"It's not my reputation that's at stake, here," Zim retorted.

"Don't try that. I'm not getting into this."

"Alright, Dib. But just remember: no girl wants to marry a doctor who can't tell if someone's dead or not," Zim stood up, whipping some dust off his shirt.

Dib shot Zim an irritated looked, "I really hate you..."

* * *

Tak held onto her flowers as if it was for dear life. She had to get back into that blasted ship. It was darker inside there than Zim's room and smaller too. It always made her feel so claustrophobic. At least wrestling with the two thieves in the ally reminded her that she was one of the top criminals in this area, but also the most innocent looking one. Well, she certainly put those two bozos back in their place. But she couldn't help feel that she was in a cage. Working for a guy like _him_ was not what she really liked doing. He was strict on the way things should be done, and Tak preferred having a bit of freedom in the particular area of work she was in.

Picking at the flowers, she noticed they were from Irk. They were purple with green spots and yellow stems – personally Tak thought they were hideous, but she needed to hold onto something or she might collapse from the stress building up in her. She was actually _scared_ of this guy. She never allowed herself to be scared, but here she was, not wanting to come near to that large black ship, not wanting to walk towards it, not wanting to get inside and not wanting to sit there opposite the shaded figure.

But she did it anyway. She put the flowers on the seat and stared at the shadow in front of her, wishing she could at least talk to its face.

"He'll do it," at least her voice wasn't letting her down.

"Good... Larb is the key to what Red was doing... you've done well, Tak," the dark figure said in a dark musty voice.

Suddenly, the ship's door opened, and some Irken with one eye patched and the other a light blue human eye stood there, his face dirty and topped with a small blue cap hugging his head.

"Sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if I could hitch a ride," the person said, glancing at Tak with an odd shine in his eye. The shaded figure pulled out a small gun, pointing it at the Irken-human's face, causing him to back away, muttering a 'sorry' and closing the door.

"Bloody hybrids," The shadow hissed as the ship started to take off, "They're nothing but trouble."

* * *

Zim, Dib and Qik all walked through the graveyard, glancing at the tombstones as they went past them. Even at daytime the graveyard gave off a haunting feeling.

"It's just over there..." Qik pointed at a crowd of policemen at the edge of the cemetery. As the three neared it, Flint came stamping out of the crowd.

"You took your time," he huffed, glaring at Zim. He motioned for the police to spread out. Once they did, they revealed a grave stone with four large square boulders to the side of it and a gaping hole right in front. "These slabs of stones way half a tone each and they're smashed open from the inside."

"And the coffin?" Zim asked.

"We were just about to bring it up," if Flint's eyes weren't blue, you would say they were on fire. His voice sounded equally as angry. "The witness is over there," Flint gestured at an old man, who had his back turned to them, "He's gone into shock."

"I see..." Zim observed. Flint marched over to the police.

"You lot better stop acting like a bunch of newborn smeets, because I'll make sure you don't get paid any more than five monies every two years if you don't get that coffin up here _immediately_," he threatened them. It seemed to work; the police headed towards the grave.

"Hello," Dib walked up to the old man, trying to act friendly. The man had a long white bread and a crazed look in his eyes. He was tall, too, but his hunched body made him shorter than Dib. "Don't worry, I'm a doctor."

"He said he saw Tallest Red rise from the grave," Flint walked up to the two humans. Dib turned around to look at Flint.

"That's pretty weird, I guess," Dib almost whispered.

Flint gave off a 'hmph', "_You_ said he was dead." Dib's caramel eyes looked up at Flint angrily.

"He had no pulse," Dib stated sternly, glaring at Flint. He'd never really liked the Irken, especially when Flint blamed him for something.

"Oh, we'll see about that..." Flint turned around as the police dragged the long coffin out of the ground. Zim was standing there too, watching quietly as the put the coffin down in front of him. Dib and Flint both made their way to the coffin. Zim reached down and tugged at the coffin's handle till it flipped open. Dib's mouth dropped open and Flint's eyes widened. Zim stood up and blinked in surprise at the sight before them.

The coffin was filled with soil that covered up most of a short body of a dead Irken, his eyes shut and head on the side. He took up just over half of the space it the coffin.

"That's not Red," Flint managed to choke out.

"Indeed," Zim said in the same shaking voice. Reaching down, Zim pulled out one of the Irken's antennae out of the soil, but was surprised to see that the end half wasn't there.

"Half and antenna..." Dib said, deep in thought, "Zim, you don't think-"

"I think I do... when did he die?"

Dib kneeled down next to Zim, getting out a ruler and measuring the Irken's face, "I'd say it's around ten and twelve hours ago."

Spotting a small piece of paper in the body's pocket, Zim pulled it out, wiping some soil off it. He slid it into his own pocket, making a mental note to look at it later.

"I know what I saw," an old voice sounded a few meters away. Looking up, Zim saw the aged man, his distraught eyes staring at the group of Irkens and humans. "It was Red. He is back. And when the dead walk among us, the living will fill these coffins..."

* * *

SHERLOCK HOLMES AND INVADER ZIM ARE NOT OWNED BY ME. I DO NOT CLAIM TO OWN THEM. I NEVER DID. I'M JUST BEING A HYPERACTIVE FANGIRL.

A/N: I don't like the end of this chapter...

Anyway, I decided to be creative and put in a little first person in here. And, yes, I had to make Tak play the role of Irene. I mean, come on. They're so alike. I don't really like writing Tak's parts, though. I like writing for Red, Zim and Dib more :D Flint's also fun, but that's probably cuz he's an OC and doesn't need to be IC cuz he's MINE! MUHAHAHAHA!

If you couldn't figure it out: the old guy is one of the Saucer Morons (the one who saw Zim without his disguise first) and this Larb is a twisted version of the Larb who conquered Vort. Pretty much all the characters I kill off in this story I love, so I decided the first one to die will be one I don't like (if you're wondering why I don't like him, 1: Because he grew taller, poor Skoodge had to go to Blotch instead of him 2: he conquered Vort. Yes, I am a Lard Nar fan, and that's the reason I like Vort)

Overall, I don't like this chapter and I'm not really looking forward to the next chapter. Though I can't wait for the chapter after that xD

Time in movie: 40 minutes 52 seconds

Words: 3,196


	5. Chapter 5: Friends and Minions

A/N: Heavens, I re-read the last chapter and absolutely hated it :/ I hope I can fix things up with this one...

* * *

"This doesn't make any sense," Dib muttered. He and Zim were walking through the crowded streets. Zim had stayed silent the whole time and Dib had done the same up until now.

_Not everything has to make sense_, Red's words flashed into Zim's mind. _Don't start listening to that idiot_, the alien scolded himself.

"It will after we sit down and think about it," Zim replied.

"You're just trying to be positive. Think about it, maybe a paranormal explanation is possible," Dib couldn't hold back all his excitement. His eyes where gleaming with the idea of proving that the paranormal _is_ real and a small smile escaped his mouth as an image of a newspaper reading 'Paranormal proved true by two investigators' floated into his head.

"Maybe, but you shouldn't come up with conclusions so quickly. You'll then find facts to fit the conclusion and not find facts to _make_ a conclusion," Zim burst Dib's bubble.

"I guess so..." Dib sighed, kicking a can on the floor. Both humans and Irkens were famous for littering and in a cramped city like this riddled with the two species, it was inevitable that there was more rubbish on the floor than in the bins.

Zim took out the piece of paper he'd found in the coffin, giving it a look over.

"What's that?" Dib eyed the folded paper.

"It was in Larb's pocket," Zim's eyes didn't leave the paper.

"Then open it," Dib ordered. Zim gave Dib an angry glance before carefully opening it. It was barely the size of an A5 piece of paper and had a coffee stain at the bottom.

"Someone has the most horrible handwriting," Zim grimaced as he looked at the spiky and untidy writing.

"What does it say?"

"_New Irk, Bloaty's Street, House 598,_" Zim started, "_To: Larb. Red's waiting for the stuff you're meant to give him. You better get it soon, he said his coming back in three days. Got it? Meet him at the graveyard, and you'll get paid. He wants to thank you for the spells in advance_ – the rest of the letter's too smudged to read."

"Larb was working for Red?" Dib's eyes widened.

"Seems like it," Zim stuffed the paper into his pocket.

"Well, he did look dodgy enough to be working with whatever magic Red uses, but I can't see why Red would hire someone who looks like they just got attacked by dogs. Red's very high-maintenance for a criminal," Dib pondered on the thought.

"Maybe that's why he got rid of him."

Dib didn't have enough time to think about what Zim said; someone tapped the human on the shoulder.

"Want to know a thing or two about your future, sir?" a female voice asked. Turning around, Dib saw a blonde human with squinted blue eyes. She had a loose light blue t-shirt on and baggy jeans that were covered in dirt. A short fridge hung over her forehead and her fair hair went down to just past her shoulders.

"No thanks," Dib turned around, walking off.

"Oh, please, I insist," she stepped in front of him, still smiling. She was short, only as tall as Dib's shoulders, but there was an air of respect around her that seemed to be coming out of nowhere.

"I don't want to know about my future," Dib tried to go around her, but she brought her arm up to block him.

"Oh come on, it'll only cost a few monies," her eyes widened and she tilted her head slightly as if she was begging him like a dog.

"Let him go, you hobo," Zim said half-heartedly, "he's already pretty much broke."

"Excuse me?" Dib blinked at Zim.

"Just play along, she'll leave us alone if we don't have what she wants," Zim whispered in Dib's ear.

"I'm not deaf," she narrowed her eyes at Zim. She turned back to Dib, "Do you know a Zita?"

"Zita?" Dib forgot what Zim said, "What about her?"

A different smile took its place on the female human's mouth, a smaller but more sinister one. "Let me see that palm of yours..." Dib held up his palm. Zim slapped his forehead. "Let's see..." she grabbed Dib's hand, twisting her head and running her figures along the lines, "Oh, I see two brothers," she looked up at Dib, "united not in blood... but in bond..."

Zim's eyes glanced up at her. Did she mean him and Dib?

"And what about Zita?" Dib asked.

"Zita... Zita..." she looked down at Dib's palm, "She's human, twenty one... and you two are together, how cute," she really sounded like she meant the 'how cute' part.

"How do you know this?" Dib gave a heavy blink as if he was trying to wake up.

"Oh, I know a lot of things," she smiled again, "I'm Jessica, nice to meet you."

"Um... I'm Dib..." Dib knew telling a complete stranger your name wasn't the brightest thing to do, especially if that stranger seemed more interested in your money than anything else, but he somehow had some sort of trust in her.

"Oh, yeah, your future," Jessica looked down at his palm. Dib pulled his hand away, remembering that she would probably ask to be paid. Even if she knew his future, Dib wasn't willing to pay any money for it.

"Sorry, I've got to go," Dib walked past her, followed by Zim.

"Where you heading off to?" Jessica yelled.

"A mission," Zim replied loud enough to be heard above the buzzing of the crowd.

"To where?"

"An Irken's house, happy now?" Dib shouted. He guessed that Jessica had some experience from the street and that she would be able to tell if Dib was lying or not, so he decided to tell the truth with only enough details to keep her from following them.

"Oh yes..." Jessica said quietly to herself, "I'm happy now..." she pulled out a mobile and tapped in a number. She spoke into it with a cruel smile on her face, "Send out the boys, Red, they're going to Larb's house."

* * *

Dib had managed to drag Zim into a jewellery store to buy a ring for Zita. Dib had spotted the perfect one in the window, golden and topped with a ruby, though Zim kept on complaining that it was way too expensive and that the money would be better off with Jessica. Dib had ignored him, however, and brought it, telling Zim it was _his_ money that _he_ earned and that _he_ could spend it on anything _he _wanted to. Dib had thought about leaving Zim to go and investigate Larb's house by himself and rather spending some time with Zita, but the thrill of finding evidence to support the paranormal quickly made Dib throw that idea away.

"You've got your ring, now," Zim said as the two walked down Bloaty's street, "so we can go to Larb's, right?"

"Sure, sure," Dib barely listened to his friend. The human was holding the ring up and admiring how beautifully the sun reflected off the glittering red stone.

"Bloaty's Street is so disgusting," Zim commented as they passed some dirty people sitting on the ground.

"Tell me about it... it's just about the oldest and cheapest place this city's got to offer. Which house is Larb's?" Dib finally put the ring away.

"House 598."

It turned out the number of the house meant the five-hundred and ninety-eighth house. There were six-hundred and five houses and Zim and Dib were only at house number twelve.

"You're kidding me! It's going to take ages till we get to house 598!" Dib yelled.

"We probably would already have gotten there if it weren't for that ring!" Zim hollered.

"Oh, so now this is my fault?"

"Yes, you pig-smelly!"

"Pig-smelly? What are you, five? Let's just get going before we get held back even more."

"I'm not walking all that way! Let's get a ride," Zim looked up to the busy sky and waved his hand, trying to get a ship to fly down.

"Why would anyone-?"

"Shut your ugly mouth and start waving!" Zim growled. Dib didn't even begin waving before a red ship flew down to them, stopping about half a meter above the ground, "that was quick. See, I told you we'd get a ride. Now get in!"

"Fine, but you're paying them..." the door opened and three aliens were sitting in there, two Irken and one a Planet Jacker, who was sitting in the back seat.

"Hey, guys," Zim greeted them, "Me and my friend are on our way to visit House 598 in this street. Are you going that way?"

"As a matter of fact, we are," an Irken sitting at the wheel, who was probably about Dib's height, smiled, "You'll need to squeeze into the back with Oog-Ah, though." The large pale-green Planet Jacker turned his head and groaned when he saw Zim and Dib. He clearly wasn't impressed. "Don't worry, he doesn't bite."

For a second, Zim rather wanted to walk to the house rather than sit next to the Planet Jacker. He absolutely hated that species. They were annoying and slow, but also stubborn and temperamental. There were few of them on Earth, since they were very keen on throwing the planet into their sun, which was dying and needed planets to be thrown in it to keep it burning. They still had a grudge against the stronger Irkens, who had told them that Earth was off-limits, so most of them stayed on other planets as if they were 'rebelling' against the idea of living on Earth. Zim shrugged off his reluctance to get into the ship and hopped in without much more hesitation.

"Thanks," Zim smiled. Dib seemed more wary. He never felt completely comfortable being surrounded by aliens in a small space. "Come on, get in Dib-human."

"Ok..." Dib obeyed, shutting the door once he had sat down. It was a tight squeeze at the back, mainly because the Planet Jacker was in there; he was taking up more than half of the back seat and Dib and Zim had to share the rest of it, which wasn't much. The ship took off and started flying down the street.

"So, why are you going to House 598?" the same Irken driving the ship asked.

"Oh, you know, just visiting a pal," Zim answered casually.

"Really? Hey, you're Zim, right? The detective?"

"Yep," Zim smiled with pride.

"Cool. I'm Sneakyonfoota, but most people call me Sneaky," the driver introduced himself, "that's Slacks," Sneaky pointed to the Irken next to him. Dib noticed that every Irken here had the same eye colour. That crimson colour most Irkens had. The planet Jacker had greenish-yellow eyes that were pretty much the same design as Irken eyes, just more circular and proportionally smaller. Were humans the _only_ intelligent creatures with proper pupils?

"Nice to meet you. Please ignore the human's rude silence, he isn't very bright," Zim stated.

"Shut up, Zim!" Dib snapped.

"You're name's Dib, if I'm not mistaken?" Sneaky guessed Dib's name, "aren't you a doctor? Doctor's are meant to know at least three human languages and Irken, right?"

"Yeah..." Dib scratched the back of his head, not too sure what Sneaky was getting to.

"Then we can speak Irken! It's way easier than English," Sneaky smiled.

"You know, I never thought about that. From now on, Dib, we're speaking Irken instead of your human language!" Zim set down the new rule.

Dib's stomach turned. He was never very good at learning Irken, all the sounds they made were hard for any human to master. They were odd, curly sounds, and Dib had a feeling he would completely embarrass himself in front of the aliens if he tried to speak Irken.

"So, how's the mystery solving going?" Sneaky asked Zim in Irken.

"Oh, fine. Mystery's aren't that hard, really," Zim replied.

"I'd never be able to figure them out," Slacks finally spoke, his deep voice making Dib surprised. Slacks seemed shorter than Sneaky, and hearing the low voice come out of his skinny body seemed a bit unusual.

"Oh, anyone can figure them out," Zim sounded truly flattered, "Just I'm very good at it."

"Small Irken think he so smart," Oog-Ah huffed. Seemed he could speak Irken too, but wasn't very good a phrasing it.

"What did you say?" Zim turned to Oog-Ah.

"You not so smart. You can't speak _my_ language," Oog-Ah threatened Zim.

"Of course I can!" Dib wasn't too sure if Zim was telling the truth.

"Prove it."

"Can you understand me now? Oh, yes you can! I can speak Planet Jackers' stupid language!" Zim spoke it without any noticeable pauses and, even though Dib couldn't understand that language, he could tell from Zim's confidence and Oog-Ah's face expression that the Irken was fluent in it.

"Woah, guys, fighting's not needed," Sneaky cut in, speaking Irken. Both Zim and Oog-Ah turned away from each other, mumbling swear words in their own language.

"We're here," Slacks commented. Looking out of the window, Dib saw a small old house with the number 598 in a faded gold on the wooden door. The ship lowered down, landing on the ground and engines turning off.

"We'll wait for you two," Sneaky offered.

"Really? Thanks!" Zim smiled. Dib opened the door and got pushed out by an impatient Zim, "We owe you guys."

The two walked down the pathway to the house while Sneaky, Slacks and Oog-Ah waited in the ship for them to return. As they neared the door, Dib stopped. Zim turned around.

"Why are you standing there like a confused smeet?" Zim narrowed an eye. At least he was speaking English.

"I don't trust those guys..." Dib murmured.

"What? Don't be stupid Dib-human! They gave us a ride!"

"Okay, for starters, stop calling me Dib-human, or I'll call you Zim-Irken. And, think about it, why would they wait for us?"

"Because I am Zim. You see, they're really waiting for me," the Irken said as if it was obvious, "You're just an annoying local."

"You told them that we were visiting someone. It can take hours to visit someone, why would they wait that long?"

"You're just scared because they're aliens."

"Scared? Don't be stupid! You know what, you can go by yourself, I don't want to be anywhere near those creeps," Dib almost yelled.

"Alright, then, Stink-human, if you're going to be scared then you can leave!" Zim turned on his heel and headed for the door, forgetting about Dib.

"Fine, then."

* * *

"Stupid door!" Zim gave the back door a kick. It swung open and smashed against the wall. He'd tried opening the front door, though that didn't work out so well. The back door was the only other option that didn't involve breaking windows. Zim was irked (no pun intended) that that door was locked too. Too impatient to try picking this lock, Zim had gone for a more violet approach, banging and kicking at it. The neighbours probably heard the door being pummelled and yelled at, but Zim figured that they'd thank him later when the case was solved.

Zim stepped into a long but thin hallway that lead up to the front door. Not a very creative plan for a house, but Larb didn't look like someone who really cared about something like that. The hallway was completely empty, except for the lone lamb next to the front door. The only light in the windowless hallway came from the open back door. Well, at least the house seemed clean. There were no spider webs and no dust on the tiled floors, though the paint on the walls was starting to peel off. At least Larb did a better job of keeping the house clean than Zim would've.

Heading for the nearest door on his left, Zim grabbed the handle and slowly opened it, praying that Larb didn't have a roommate who was deaf enough not to here the door slam against the wall. Once he opened the door, it revealed a small room with a squashed up blue bed in the corner and a little window looking out at the house next door. There wasn't even enough space for a dresser and Zim wondered where Larb kept his clothes.

This wasn't the room he was looking for, though. Something in the back of his head told him there weren't any clues hanging around here. Turning around and walking down the hallway, not bothering to close the bedroom door, Zim stopped at a door right at the end of the dark passage. He'd passed by two other doors, but Zim had noticed that this was the only door with a keyhole. An empty keyhole. An attempt to open the door proved his theory: it was locked. Zim wasn't in the mood to start banging on the door until it unlocked itself, so he just got PAK legs out and used its handy laser cutting tool to blast the door open. Easy.

The room was long and thin with dirty, stained walls and floors. It was probably one of the largest rooms in the small house, but also one of the messiest. Sheets of paper littered one of three metal tables that were up against the wall, and the other two had dishes, mirrors, beakers, glasses and goodness knows what else all cramped up on the two tables. Nothing seemed organised here.

Zim walked over to the tables, observing everything with an emotionless face. He fingered a glass with some liquid inside it before turning his attention to a black microscope that looked like it had seen better days. Bending down, Zim looked through it. Nothing, just a black line stopping about halfway and a sick yellow behind it. Yeah, it could have helped if there was actually something to look at, Zim hadn't checked that part. Moving away, Zim turned to see a dead rat laying next to a small dish with a white powder inside it. There was even part of what looked like a bee hive next to it, cut in half and a white translucent bottle in front of it.

Carrying on past the other tables, slowly shifting through some sheets on paper with element signals on it and mathematical equations and poking at all the odd objects, Zim came to the end of the room. Next to the table at the end – the one with most of the sheets of paper – was an abnormal machine, halfway in the making. It was oily and pretty much just a square, but it looked like something that needed two... things on it, with two empty round holes on top of it.

"Where's your pal, Zim?" came a voice. Zim knew it. It was Sneaky's.

Turning towards where the door used to be, Zim saw Sneaky and Slacks standing there, Sneaky's face looking amused in a cruel way.

"What are you two doing here?" Zim asked.

"Oh, thought we'd just drop in for a check-up on how things are going," Sneaky smiled.

"Oh, shut up, Sneaky. Enough toying with him," Slacks snapped, "Red said we gotta finish him off pronto."

"Red?" Zim suddenly was overcome with a sick realization, "You're... you're working for him!"

"Uh huh," Slacks nodded, "same with Oog-Ah."

_Oh Flabnoug_, Zim swallowed.

Oog-Ah came up behind the two Irkens, a twisted smile on his face, "This gunna be fun. Little green man look good for pummelling."

Slacks and Sneaky took a step to the side to let Oog-Ah through. Every step Oog-Ah took seemed to shake the Earth and lower Zim's confidence. Once he was a meter away from Zim, Oog-Ah swung his large fist towards Zim's face. Ducking, Zim ran around him, heading to the door, but was stopped when Slacks and Sneaky grabbed him, turning him around and holding him still for Oog-Ah. That Planet Jacker was big enough to sit on Zim if he really wanted to, and the grin on Oog-Ah wore was a hint that he wouldn't be easy on the Irken.

"Goodbye, little green thing," Oog-Ah said in Planet Jacker, readying to throw a punch at Zim again.

"Not so fast!" a voice behind Zim shouted. An arm went around Slacks neck and pulled the alien away while Sneaky got kicked in the chest. Zim tore away from the two and dodged Oog-Ah as the Planet Jacker lunged out at him. Zim looked around, seeing Dib strangling a squirming Slacks with his left arm and trying to elbow Sneaky off with his other arm.

"Dib-human? You could've come sooner!" Zim complained. Oog-Ah gave off a type of battle-cry, running as fast as he could towards Zim. "And this is for you!" Zim pointed at Oog-Ah, his PAK legs coming out and lifting him higher than the Planet Jacker. He kicked him in the face with one of his airborne feet. Stumbling backwards, Oog-Ah gave off a moan, rubbing his face. Zim lowered himself to the ground and tried to give the Planet Jacker a punch in the stomach. His skinny arms didn't seem to do a good job at it, though, and Oog-Ah barely seemed shaken. The Planet Jacker's fat hand grabbed Zim's head, picked him up and threw him to the other side of the room. Zim slowly got up, reaching for a hammer on one of the tables.

Slacks had escaped Dib's grip and gave him a hit on the back of the head. Dib grabbed his head in pain before Sneaky's knee came up and stabbed Dib in the stomach. Slacks grasped Dib's trench coat and pulled him up, taking both his arms and pulling them behind his back.

Zim barely held onto the hammer, "One moment, please," he huffed in Planet Jacker.

"I'm in no hurry," Oog-Ah replied, also in Planet Jacker, waiting for Zim to attack first. Zim quickly gathered enough energy to fling the hammer at Oog-Ah, who did a good job of avoid it, until Zim tried to hit him again, this time hitting against his chest. He clutched his side, gasping as his lungs (or whatever Planet Jackers have) got the air knocked out of them.

Dib kicked Slacks in the shin, freeing himself. He threw a punch at Sneaky. A '_ting ting ting_' sound caught Dib's attention. Glancing around, Dib saw the ring he had brought for Zita rolling on the floor, its container laying open a few centimetres away from it. Dib gave off a gasp.

Zim turned around, looking for something possibly more useful than a hammer, something that was less heavier or maybe...

BANG! Oog-Ah's hand smashed into the alien's head, making him fall to the floor.

"Stupid Irken," Oog-Ah said in Planet Jacker, lifting his foot up, ready to stomp on Zim. The Irken's dazed eyes looked up, seeing a trident shaped sliver object on the floor. Grabbing it, Zim turned around, pointing to three spikes at Oog-Ah's foot. He gave the bottom of his opponent's foot a poke with the object, which resulted in bright sparks zapping out of the object's spikes and Oog-Ah flying over to the other side of the room, smashing into Slacks. They flew through the hole in the wall and onto the other one on the other side of the hallway, causing another hole.

Dib and Sneaky stared at the hole, mystified. Dib snapped out of the wonder of what happened and punched Sneaky in the tummy.

"Argh!" Sneaky groaned, "You bloody asshole!" he lunged at Dib, the two beginning to fight again.

Zim got up and glanced over at the new hole. A shadow came up from the sawdust, or whatever you want to call it, and staggered back into the room. Oog-Ah seemed to be slightly shaken, but still reasonably alright. He grabbed onto one of the metal tables for balance.

"Phew... One... one moment, please," he said in Irken.

"That's better, we can speak Irken, now," Zim commented before gently placing the trident's spikes on the table. The electricity travelled through the metal and making Oog-Ah soar across the room and break a hole into the bathroom wall.

Dib grabbed the microscope and threw it at Sneaky's head. Sneaky stumbled for a second before falling onto the ground, the weight of the old scientific tool knocking him out. Dib took a deep breath turning to Zim.

"Zim... what _is_ that thing?" Dib asked shakily.

"I dunno," Zim answered in Irken.

A crash was heard from the bathroom. Zim ran into it, still grabbing the trident. Oog-Ah had intentionally smashed another hole into the wall, escaping. Jumping though the hole, Zim ran after Oog-Ah, who hadn't gotten very far away from the house. Oog-Ah was running down the street, passing house 599, 600, 601 and 602. Zim followed, far more faster than the Planet Jacker.

There was an increasing amount of crowds as he left the group of houses. It was easy to tell where Oog-Ah was, but it was still a problem to squeeze through the thickening crowd. Zim was short and couldn't look over most of the heads, and, slowly but surely, he was losing the direction Oog-Ah was heading.

"Oh, screw it!" Zim hissed to himself, his PAK legs opening, earning some shouts from the crowd. It got people to make way for him, though, and he could see Oog-Ah a few meters away. He sped forward, the reluctantly crowd splitting to let him through. He started to catch up to Oog-Ah.

The Planet Jacker ran into an empty warehouse. Zim followed, now only about three meters away from him. He still had his PAK legs out, and used them to jump in front of Oog-Ah, holding the small trident out. Oog-Ah stopped, glaring up at Zim.

"Where is he?" Zim shouted in Irken.

"Where is who?" Oog-Ah asked in Planet Jacker, eyes narrowed.

"Red, you idiot, who else?" Zim took a deep breath, "Tell me where the retard is..."

"There are far greater things to fear than his location," Oog-Ah answered.

"What's that supposed to mean? Tell me where Red is, that's all I'm asking for," Zim ordered.

"Like I said, that is not what you should worry about," Oog-Ah grabbed the trident just below the spikes, tugging at it till Zim lost his grip and let go. Oog-Ah threw the trident behind him, still glowering at Zim. After a pause, Oog-Ah continued, "Run little caterpillar, run..."

"With pleasure..." Zim said in Irken before turning around, scampering away using his PAK legs. Oog-Ah grabbed them and pulled Zim back. Poking the Planet Jacker in the eye, Zim got Oog-Ah to let him go. He retracted his PAK legs and just ran by himself, not sure where to go. Oog-Ah pursued, screaming his battle-cry.

There was a large red and grey cement truck that must've been put out of business when Irkens and humans met. Zim ran towards it, opening the door and getting inside. To his relief, the keys were inside the truck. Before Zim could close the door, Oog-Ah grabbed it and ripped it out of Zim's hand. The Planet Jacker reached inside and got a grip around Zim's thin neck. Zim gave a few coughs, his hand reaching for the key in the steering wheel and turned it. The truck gave a rumble as it turned on and Zim stepped down on the accelerator, the truck starting to race forward. Zim grabbed onto the steering wheel as Oog-Ah lost his grip on Zim's neck. Slamming the door shut, Zim raced on forward, the cement truck speeding up. He rolled down the window and looked behind him, seeing Oog-Ah staring at him, scratching his head in confusion.

"Ha, ha!" Zim taunted, "you stupid Planet Jacker! Thought you could win a fight with the almighty ZIM? Well, look at you, now, you filthy-"

SMASH!

Unknown to Zim, while he was mocking Oog-Ah, he was driving the truck right into the wall of the warehouse. Not the brightest thing to do...

Zim was now driving the cement truck on the streets, trying to miss all the Irkens and humans, who were screaming and running around, shocked to see a large land vehicle driving through the crowd. Zim turned the wheel from side to side, yelling at the Irkens and humans to move out of the way. As he went further down the street, Zim found himself entering a park. The rusted truck's wheels sank into the soft green grass as it drove through the park. More Irkens and humans that had been relaxing just a few seconds ago were now screaming and dodging the large truck.

Stepping on the break, Zim hoped the truck would stop immediately, but the break system seemed to not be working. Turning the truck around, he exited the park and then turned right, purposely aiming for a large building. The truck crashed into the building and finally came to a halt. After listening to the truck's engine give off a last murmur and then watching the smoke rise up from the hood, Zim gave off a sigh, relived that his short ride was finished. Form the side of his eye, he spotted Dib running towards his truck.

"What the _hell_ are you doing in this thing?" Dib panted once he was close enough for Zim to hear him.

"Oh, shut up," Zim said tetchily.

A police ship alarm sounded from somewhere in the sky and Zim gave an irritated huff as the police ship lowered itself next to the cement truck. The window opened and a red-haired human policeman.

"Zim and Dr. Dib, you are to be sent to jail to wait for what the Control Brain decides what to do with you," he stated, "I'll list all the reasons why you will be kept there on our way to it."

"Damn it!" Zim gave the wheel a hard punch, only to get a beige airbag exploding in front of him as a response.

"I'll get him out..." Dib sighed.

* * *

Pop quiz: Do I own Invader Zim or Sherlock Holmes? Answer: NO, I DO NOT OWN INVADER ZIM OR SHERLOCK HOLMES AND DO NOT CLAIM TO. Well done, you get an A+ :)

A/N: The airbag part was inspired by my favourite moment in Wallace and Gromit: Curse of the Wererabbit ^^

So... I've finished this chapter... (heads smashes into keyboard) this chapter was such a pain to write... it ended up being WAY longer than I thought it would... and I've started a new fanfic story which I'm hoping will be up in a few months. I'm first finishing this story, though

And I know the gypsy wasn't one of Blackwood's 'minions', but Jessica's an insult to blondes so I thought 'ya know what, I'll make her serve the villain 'cause we all know Red likes having lots of henchmen/henchwomen'

yeah... don't know how that works, but whatever...

And: NO OCs USED IS THIS CHAPTER! EVEN THE POLICEMAN'S MEANT TO BE ONE OF ZIM'S CLASSMATES, WHO'S NAME I'VE FORGOTTEN! IT'S NOT KEEF, IT'S SOMEONE ELSE!

Ok... I'm done now... *faints*

Time in movie: 55 minutes and 22 seconds (I only did 15 minutes from the last chapter. Well, at least I'm pretty much halfway...)

Words: 5 007 (the second longest chapter I've ever written...)


	6. Chapter 6: Jailed and Bailed

Dib and Zim sat on a rotting wooden bench in a cafeteria. They were waiting for the Control Brain to judge what punishment would be suitable for what they had done: trespassing, breaking in, domestic violence, entering warehouse without permission, reckless driving, stealing of a vehicle, terrorizing pedestrians and injuring 12 people while driving the cement truck. Six of the nine crimes only Zim had done.

Dib took off his glasses, cleaned them with his shirt, which only proved to fog them up even more, and slid them back on his head. He looked around at the grubby prisoners sitting at the wooden tables, chewing on greasy food which eerily reminded Dib of his days at Skool. He and Zim were the only ones not wearing the prisoner uniform, since they weren't really expected to be kept in jail, at least not for a long time. Dib took in a shaky breathe.

"This is your fault," Dib muttered to Zim. The Irken's antennae rose.

"Excuse me?"

"If we hadn't hung around those guys-"

"They still would've attacked us!" Zim snapped in, not allowing Dib to continue, "They were working for Red, they were ordered to attack."

Dib glanced at Zim then back at the rest of the cafeteria. "That's a surprise," he said sarcastically. Zim looked insulted by Dib's dry remark. Both of them stayed silent for a few long seconds, listening to the hollering in the hall; watching a man faking a sickness to get a bale; cautiously allowing the thick smell of chemical-based food drift up their nostrils - well, Dib's nostrils. After a while, Dib spoke up again. "I've been reading through some of my notes, lately," he stated, "notes I've made over the last few months."

"Why should I care, Dib-human," Zim tried to silence his friend, knowing more or less where this was going.

"I found it hard to figure them out but I think I've got a conclusion," Dib ignored him. "Would you like to hear it?"

"No-"

"I am physiologically disturbed," Dib sneered. Zim was trying to come up with a smart response but he couldn't think of anything. "Why else would I continually follow you into dangers that no sane person would go into?"

"Are you blaming me?" Zim said sharply.

"Yes!" Dib's tired voice tried to shout, "I am! You'll lead me right into my death, judging by the way it's going now! You made me loose the ring for Zita, wait till you make me lose my life!"

"You lost the ring? You idiot!" Zim couldn't suppress the start of a laugh.

"Because I went to that bloody house! I couldn't find it anywhere!" Dib's face started to look more hurt, "I can't just have a normal, happy life when you're floating about, can I? All I wanted was for me and Zita-"

"Stop complaining," Zim hissed back.

"I'm complaining? Since when do I complain? If I was a complainer, then why do I never criticize you for waking me up at three in the morning, or your mess, or you stealing my shoes?"

"Sharing is caring," Zim dryly replied, looking off to the side.

"Or you setting fire on the rooms, or doing tests on Gir?" Dib sighed, "And, most importantly, you seem to actually want me and Zita to break up. I don't know why you keep on taking everything from my life, ruining it and then giving it back as if to taunt me! You can be the biggest jerk if you really want to be!"

"Jerk?" Zim yelled, "You're just a human, you do not understand the real efficiency to my tactics!"

"Efficiency?" Dib was interrupted, when the speakers in the cafeteria switched on, a nasally voice beginning to speak.

"Dib Membrane, the Control Brain has decided you can leave the prison with a warning," it echoed through the hall. Standing up and giving Zim a fuming glance, Dib stomped over to the exit of the cafeteria. Zim watched Dib leave with a mix of spite and infuriation. Trying to take his mind off the situation, Zim took a deep breath and told himself that he'll be out of the jail within an hour.

Two hours had passed and Zim had received information that he was either going to stay in jail for two days or pay a fee, which was too high for Zim to even consider that route of escape. So, he decided to tough it out, even though, deep down, he had a feeling he should get out as soon as possible. Fortunately, his ticket out of the jail came in the form of inspector Flint.

"I knew you'd end up in jail at some point," Flint huffed, as Zim left the building, stepping outside to see the indigo eyed Irken waiting for him.

"Yes, um," Zim scratched his head, "that wasn't really part of the plan..."

Flint rolled his eyes and got out a newspaper out of his PAK, holding it out at Zim, "Please tell me you know what to do about this."

Zim saw the black-inked headlines 'Earth in Terror' and guessed it had something to do with Red.

"Not yet, no," he bit his lips. Flint sighed and put the paper back in his PAK.

"'Not yet'?" the Irken shook his head, "Well, you better figure something out quickly, before I kick you back into that jail. Everyone's crapping their pants with the thought of Red being resurrected and you're gunna have to at least give 'em diapers till you can sort this thing out."

"Diapers?"Zim blinked.

"It's a metaphor for saying you have to calm them down, one way or another," Flint folded his arms across his sinewy torso. "And let's start now. You're heading off to meet with someone."

"Who?"Zim asked.

"The guy who paid for your release," the inspector replied.

"I thought you paid for it."

"Please, Zim," Flint narrowed his eyes, glaring at Zim, "I wouldn't waste a money on you. You know that."

Flint turned around and led Zim to a grey ship, telling him that he wasn't coming along. Zim wasn't too sure if he should trust Flint – after all, Flint had said so himself that he didn't care for Zim's welfare – but Zim knew he wouldn't send him to his doom because he was the only detective who could remotely understand Red. So Zim obeyed, opening the ship's door. He was surprised to see a formally-dressed Irken sitting in the ship. He gave Zim a crooked smile with his zipper-like teeth. Glancing back at Flint, Zim gave him a questioning look. Flint mouthed 'hurry up', eyes slightly anxious. Shrugging off any questions floating around in his head and deciding that Flint was probably just being his impatient self, Zim sat on the seat next to the Irken at the wheel. Flint immediately grabbed the door and slammed it shut and walked away, arms folded tightly.

"I'm sorry for the inconvenience," the Irken next to Zim said, "but I'm going to have to put this over you." The Irken pulled out a black material, putting it over Zim's head and starting to tie it. Zim struggled, giving the other Irken a few slaps and punches.

"Get off of me you disgusting-" Zim was broken off when someone who'd been hiding in the backseats put his arm around Zim's mouth and grabbed the Irken's arms, twisting them. The ship started to take off, the engine rumbling.

"Don't worry," Zim heard the Irken at the steering wheel say, "it's just the normal procedure."

Down on the ground, Flint had stopped walking away and had turned his attention back to the ship. He watched as it flew away, his antennae twitching irritably. _Zim better not screw up in front of him_, he sighed.

* * *

The blindfold was ripped off of Zim's head. The Irken's eyes took a while to get used to the bright light in the room he was in, but it wasn't long before he figured out that he was sitting in a wooden seat at a desk, facing another Irken. With a shock, Zim almost thought he saw Red, but when he noticed the Irken in front of him had lavender eyes instead Red's scarlet ones, he calmed down quickly. He glanced around the room, the deep purple walls and furniture confirming Zim's theories that someone high in status was owned this place – most likely the Irken in front of him, who was obviously a Tallest.

"Hi, Zim," the purple-eyed Tallest waved his two-fingered right hand. A glitter of a ring around one of his fingers caught Zim's eye. "I know you don't know who I am or where you are, so let me explain-"

"Don't waste your time," Zim almost sneered, "for where I am: I was a bit confused at first when I was blindfolded, but the ship flew over that large junkyard that smells almost as bad as the Savage Rat People. Then, we stopped near the only bakery that makes doughnuts with a specific glaze often used on Foodcourtia. After your henchmen finished stocking up on doughnuts, we got out on Rich Street, and I knew we were there because I didn't step on any trash and the streets are always clean on Rich Street. And for whom you are: those letters on your desk are addressed to 'Tallest Purple'. That little ring you're wearing has a symbol of ox horns, one usually associated with the 'Order': a group of magic-believing freaks."

Purple stared at Zim with surprise in his eyes for two seconds. "Stink and Spleen bought doughnuts and didn't share them with me?" he broke the silence, antennae lowering and eyes narrowing.

A door at the end of the room opened and another tall Irken walked in, a short Vortian trailing behind him, wearing tight goggles over his eyes that squeezed his head. Zim thought that the Planet Jacker was a rarity to see, but, seeing a Vortian was like seeing a unicorn. They forever had a grudge against Irkens, since Vortians had been backstabbed by their old allies. Vort had once been property of the Irken Empire, but, after a bit of rebelling and nagging, Vort was finally given back to the Vortians. It was a shock to see a Vortian on a planet with more than one Irken on it.

The two aliens made their way over to Purple, and the other Tallest, who's dark green eyes were narrowed towards Zim, gave Purple's chair a kick to tell him to stand up. Once all three of them were standing, Zim stood up too, not liking being the closest to the ground. The effort to be taller than everyone else didn't help much; Zim was only taller than the Vortian by two inches.

"I see we hunted him down," the tallest of the four, the green-eyed Irken, said dryly.

"I told you I would find him!" Purple chipped proudly, a smug grin on his face.

"Indeed..." the other Irken nodded, still looking at Zim. He cleared his throat, starting to address Zim, "I'm Tallest Spork and this is Lard Nar," he gestured to the Vortian.

"Pleased to meet you, Zim," the Vortian's squeaking voice called out.

"Uh huh," Zim didn't even glance at Lard Nar, keeping his eyes firmly on the taller Irkens.

"So, Zim..." Purple started, failing at his attempts to make this meeting formal, "You know about the Order, right? 'Cause I don't really feel like going through a whole explanation-"

"I know," Zim almost snapped.

"How do you know?" Lard Nar leaned on the large desk, seeming to be testing Zim's skills. Zim gave off a snort.

"I know a lot of things, four-eyes," Zim retorted. Lard Nar gave a look of contempt.

"And what do you think of the Order?" Spork fixed Zim with a glare that told the short Irken that he shouldn't even think about insulting him. He was taller than both Red and Purple, so Zim immediately got the message that he was a Irken of extremely high-status.

"It's... interesting... for magical stuff..." Zim avoided Spork's eyes, but kept his proud expression.

"I know you don't share our beliefs, Zim," Lard Nar commented, "and we don't expect you to. We just expect you to share our fears..."

"Fears? What are you talking about, Vortian?" Zim looked confused.

"It's Tallest Red, dipstick," Spork snarled, "I thought Flint would hint the subject of this conversation to you."

"You know Flint?" Zim questioned. Spork gave a smirk.

"Just because we're in the Order doesn't mean we don't have friends on the outside," Spork's tongue curled around the words - words that seemed coated something underneath them.

"The point is that Red's on the loose and he's causing chaos. We want to offer help to stop him," Purple finally spoke, his goofy voice sounding nervous.

"Who said I need help?" Zim challenged the Vortian.

"You don't get it, Zim," Purple shook his head, "We've got more power over... _stuff_. Ya know? Like Spork, he's got big power over the police. Lard Nar's got places in the technological area I've got my own fair amount of... what's the word..."

"Authority," Spork cut in, "so, Zim, are you going to expect our offer?"

Zim hesitated. As far as he knew, these three could have something to do with Red, though the two Tallest's hovering uniforms and the Vortian's neat clothes certainly gave off the idea that they weren't in Red's business. But then, a theory popped into Zim's head.

"Why should I trust you?" Zim replied, "I don't really think I can trust Red's brother."

All three of the members of the Order looked taken aback. Zim walked around the table and came up to Purple, looking up at the Tallest with suspicious eyes.

"You and Red are twins... you both came from the same capsule," he started. "It rarely happens, but, when it does, the two twins will look the exact same, height and everything, _but_, their eyes' colours often 'splits' in half. If you were born as one Irken, you would've had the common purplish-red eyes, but your egg spilt as well as the DNA. A lot of the time, the two Irkens will be named after their eye colour to avoid any confusion."

Purple's mouth dropped open out of shock and both Spork and Lard Nar stared at Zim silently.

"How did you know that?" Lard Nar blinked at Zim.

"Why do you keep on asking that question?" Zim glared at the Vortian.

"You're freaky..." Purple pointed at Zim with one of his skeletal figures.

"Yes. Yes I am," Zim said proudly, a smug expression growing on his face.

"So, um," Lard Nar gave Zim a tap on his shoulder, "You'll let us help out? Wait, I've got a good idea!" The Vortian opened the desk's drawers, earning a 'hey!' from Purple. He pulled out a small tattered book, giving it to Zim.

"That's the book of spells," Spork said as Zim flicked through the book, looking at the strange pictures of bones, beasts and geometrical shapes, "It's the source of his power."

"I'll just warn you," Purple gave a tug at Zim's left antenna to make him face him, "Those five girls he killed... they weren't the first. There were others that he used to increase his strength. I never believed in magic, but the things he was doing _forced_ me to believe in it. I think it's the only way to defeat him. There's something behind his tricks... I know it..."

Zim blinked at Purple, suddenly realizing that Purple probably knew the most about Red than anyone else.

"And, as his brother, I should try to stop him," Purple added more solemnly.

"So, will you allow us to lend a hand?" Spork asked, his voice harsh and monotone. Zim turned around, giving Spork an amused look.

"We shall see how this case goes..." Zim thrust the book into Lard Nar's hand and went back to facing Purple, "I'd keep my head up if I were you..."

"What? Why?" Purple narrowed an eye.

"Red wants me dead. If you know more about him than me, he'll want you dead, too. And I think you'd be the first to go bye-bye," Purple's eyes looked shocked, "not to scare to." Zim made his way towards the door where Spork and Lard Nar had come from, exiting the room. Spork raised a non-existent eyebrow.

"Does he know that isn't the way out?" he muttered to the other aliens in the room.

"He'll figure it out at some point," Purple sighed, "I need to go find Stink and Spleen; they've got some doughnuts they haven't told me about..."

* * *

I DO NOT OWN INVADER ZIM OR SHERLOCK HOLMES AND DO NOT CLAIM TO. SO, BUGGER OFF, YOU STUPID 'PROTECT IP ACT'.

A/N: *Collapses* Yikes… I've been busy. XD I'm so sorry for the late update. Thank you to Invader Johnny for reminding me that I still need to finish this. Just had a lot of things to shift through, lately, so this had kind of fallen to the bottom of a pile that is luckily becoming smaller. Updates will hopefully occur sooner, too. =)

Oh, and, my writing style has changed a bit. It wouldn't be very noticeable here, as I wrote the majority of this quite a while ago, but it has changed significantly – for the better, I assure you. XD

Thank you for reading and I'm sorry about the super late update! =(

… 'Late'; 'Update'… That rhymes… :3 *Shot*


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